


Bare

by sephirothflame



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 05:53:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12977451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sephirothflame/pseuds/sephirothflame
Summary: Sometimes, you run away in the middle of the night with your boyfriend to somewhere a little more remote. Sometimes that place happens to be a nudist colony.





	Bare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Notsalony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notsalony/gifts).



> Written for notsalony.
> 
> Happy Holidays.

Len is in the kitchen, standing barefoot in a white robe while he fries bacon on the stove top. There’s already a full plate next to a stack of pancakes, and a steady drip of coffee from the pot. It’s alarmingly domestic considering the man used to be Barry’s arch nemesis.

“Hey,” Barry says, to break the silence. No use in pretending not to be there, Len is too observant for that. The bed was too cold without Len to consider crawling back into, anyway.

Barry isn’t entirely sure what prompted the hopefully romantic getaway this weekend, but Barry wasn’t going to say _no_. He feels like he never sees Len anymore, now that he’s spending most of his time on the _Waverider_ and Barry is stuck here. Not that he’s complaining. Too much. Out loud.

“Good morning,” Len says, practically purring. There’s still a purple bruise on his neck from Barry’s lips and Barry longs to touch it. “Did you sleep well?”

Barry did, despite the eerie quiet of the neighborhood. Len has a safehouse in a gated community along the coast, because of course he does, but they’d come in after dark and Barry hadn’t had a chance to explore. He was more interested in getting Len upstairs and into bed.

“So now that you have me out in the middle of nowhere, what were your plans for me?” Barry asks. He hooks his chin over Len’s shoulder and sighs contently. Len allows it, for a moment, before pushing him away and pulling the bacon out of the pan.

“We should have enough food for the next few days,” Len says casually. “We can lounge around here or go exploring, if you prefer. The beach is pretty quiet.”

Barry looks out the kitchen window at the pristine lawns and white picket fences and wonders if there’s even anything to do in a small community like this besides lounge in the sand. Backgammon with the neighbors? Long romantic walks on the beach?

There’s something out of the corner of Barry’s eyes and he feels himself blush before he even processes what’s happening. “Your neighbor, he, uh – “

“What?” Len asks. He takes a step to look out the window and makes a contemplative sound. “It was about time Mr. Porter mowed his lawn. It’s been getting ridiculous.”

“That’s what your taking from this?” Barry asks, flushing. There is a middle-aged man standing in the next yard over, casually doing his weekend chores like nothing is amiss. “Does he have like, Alzheimer’s? Should we - ?”

“He’s fine,” Len says. He slaps Barry’s ass gently and gestures across the yard a little way. It takes Barry a second to realize an equally naked woman is kneeling in the back garden, plucking weeds from the garden. “His wife, Charlotta. Nice couple.”

“They’re naked,” Barry chokes out.

“Well, it is a nudist colony,” Len says. It comes out so casually, like this isn’t an unusual situation in the least. He turns off the stove top while Barry stares helplessly and washes his hands. “Did you lose your appetite?”

“No?” Barry says. He knows he isn’t in a position to judge anyway and he’s not as horrified as he probably should be. He’s seen some weird things in the last few years; consenting adults submitting themselves to skin cancer isn’t as much of a big deal as it would have been years ago.

Barry hesitates before curling his fingers around the fluffy white sleeve of Len’s robe. It’s ultra plush and Barry thinks he could willingly smother himself in it.

“I just have one question,” Barry says.

Len snorts. He wipes down the counters from the grease splatter and starts building a stack of pancakes onto a plate - for Barry, then. “Just one question? I find that hard to believe.”

“Haha,” Barry deadpans. He tugs on Len’s robe sleeve again until the other man finally turns to look at him. He doesn’t know how to phrase his question without being insensitive, but there’s no going back now. “How come you have a house in a place like this if you don’t even like being naked?”

For a long moment, Len is quiet, almost contemplative. Eventually, he says, “It’s not the same.”

Barry has no idea what that means and he’s not sure he’s willing to test his luck this early in the morning. He likes when Len is open and warm instead of quiet. He understands the desire to be left alone, but Barry doesn’t like it quite as much as Len does. Barry needs the attention.

Len feeds Barry a piece of bacon and he’s only mildly disappointed that it’s turkey. His hand settles on the small of Barry’s back, pushing up under his shirt, and he presses a soft kiss to Barry’s jaw.

“It’s different,” Len says again, and maybe Barry gets it. Their neighbors are probably a few years older than Len whereas Barry is a little over half of his age. And they’re normal. They don’t spend every day fighting crime and running around the city. Or they might. Barry doesn’t know what kind of crime happens in gated communities like this. “Are you okay?”

Honestly, Barry is finding himself less and less bothered by it all as the conversation goes on. This is a part of Len that is willingly being shared with him and it’s on Barry not to fuck this up. To accept him. Barry can do that. He might not understand the appeal but he understands that much. And he’s okay with that. He trusts Len.

Barry presses a soft kiss to Len’s lips and steals another piece of bacon. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Len presses Barry against the sink and reaches behind him to unlatch the window, letting in a cool breeze. It feels nice, having Len this close to him. They don’t get to do this often enough in Central City.

Len brushes a soft kiss against Barry’s lips. His fingers find Barry’s hips and he tugs his shirt up, over and off, before tossing it to the side. It lands somewhere on the kitchen floor and for once Len isn’t concerned about making a mess. The window is open, let alone the blinds, but Len doesn’t stop. He doesn’t seem the least bit perturbed and Barry only blushes harder as Len drops to his knees.

The first kiss to his abs makes Barry’s stomach flutter. Cool fingers curl around his hips, holding him in place, and warm lips press gentle kisses to his skin. There’s no pattern or rush to what Len is doing and Barry sighs, relaxing back against the counter. Barry likes when Len takes his time, tasting and teasing. It makes Barry’s toes curl in anticipation.

By the time Barry’s pajama pants are tugged down, his cock is half hard.

Len licks a stripe from the base to the tip. He mouths wet kisses along the shaft before sucking on the head. Len’s tongue swirls around Barry’s cockhead and teases his slit and Barry whines. Barry is one hundred percent the center of Len’s universe right now and there is nowhere else Barry would rather be.

No matter how many times Barry has Len on his knees before him, Barry never gets tired of his mouth. It’s like Len has nowhere else in the world to be and Barry is so used to rushing around, caught up in his own head, it’s nice to just close his eyes and let someone else be in control for a little while. He likes getting to run his fingers over Len’s close shaved scalp and feel himself through Len’s cheek.

Neither of them is any rush to finish this. Barry moans softly, acutely aware of the neighbors outside. It’s difficult not to ratchet his hips into the wet warmth of Len’s mouth, but he knows better. Len has to be in control. Len always has to be in control and Barry likes it that way.

The coffee is lukewarm by the time Barry finally comes down the back of Len’s throat and he’s panting desperately, fingers curled into the granite countertop. Len doesn’t like when Barry pushes and Barry likes being told what he’s not allowed to do.

“Not that I’m complaining, but…” Barry says, his voice trailing off. He doesn’t know where he was going with that but Len doesn’t jump in to finish his sentence for him. He hands Len a dishrag to wipe his chin with and Len snorts.

Len straightens his robe as he stands up and pours himself a cup of coffee. His nose wrinkles as he sips, but it’s his own fault for taking his time. Not that Barry is complaining. Barry never complains about anything to do with sex. Besides, coffee is coffee.

“Do you want me to, ah?” Barry gestures vaguely with his hand and Len snorts.

“Maybe later,” Len says. He heaps pancakes onto his plate and picks at the bacon. “You can blow me on the back porch after breakfast.”

Barry blushes as he finishes loading up his plate, but he doesn’t say no.

 


End file.
